The Scent of Nostalgia
by Sephielya J. Maxwell
Summary: Lithuania visits America's house, but he isn't home at the moment. Finding his coat on the couch, Liet is overcome with good memories... and steamy ones.


Toris knocked on the door in front of him firmly. When there was no answer he glanced to his watch in worry. Only 8am, the American might not even be awake yet. He knocked again, this time calling out. "Alfred?" Still no answer. Toris reached into his pocket, pulling out his key. He'd brought it just in case. Alfred had given it to him long ago when he'd left his house, and he'd sent Toris a replacement whenever he changed his locks. 'You can come any time you need me.' He'd said. Toris hadn't ever taken him up on that request, too stubbornly independent, and he still felt silly to feel so safe with a nation almost five hundred years younger than he was.

Slipping the key into the door, he turned it for a click of the lock. Slipping the key back into his pocket as he stepped inside, he called out again. "Alfred, are you still asleep?" Closing the door behind him, Toris slipped off his shoes and took of his jacket, hanging it up. "Alfred?" Heading right for the hallway, Toris went up the stairs and to Al's room. The door was open, the bed a mess, and dirty clothing littered the floor. With a sigh, Toris stepped into the room and began to pick up after the American. Maybe it was just out of habit, or even just the Lithuanian's inborn need to be cleanly. After all the clothing was tossed into the hamper and the bed was made with perfectly folded corners, Toris headed back downstairs. Alfred obviously wasn't home, so he would just wait for him. They weren't supposed to meet until 10am anyway, so maybe the American just had some early business to take care of first.

As he rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs into the living room, Toris spotted it. Al's coat was tossed haphazardly over the back of the couch. His trademark coat ever since WWII, brown and leather, with its airplane and '50' patches. Moving over to the couch, Toris lifted it in his hands. It was a little faded by now, leather soft and slightly cracked, the fur not quite as soft as it used to be. Still Alfred kept it, a testament to how attached to the past that he still was. Toris loved that about him because unlike Alfred, Toris couldn't bring himself to hold on to some things. He caught the scent of something suddenly, and he lifted the coat up closer to his face. _Ah… _Closing his eyes, Toris breathed in deeply through his nose.

Old leather, faint sweat, and of course the perpetual scent of fast food. Sometimes just being around the American could make you hungry. Ivan had always called it the capitalist effect, but Toris never minded it. But underneath it all—or maybe just all together, there was another scent entirely. It was the scent that you left behind when you came home and fell straight into bed. By morning the natural smell of your skin and hair would have permeated the pillow and sheets before you could replace it with soaps and floral shampoos. It was almost as if you could wrap yourself up in another person that way. No two people had the exact same scent. Toris could remember when he lived with Alfred how he would always enter the American's room after Al had gone off to work and lay in his bed for an hour or so. He'd feel the residual heat from the bed's vacant occupant, burry himself into the blankets and breathe in deeply.

The leather was nostalgic, weary and faded as it was. And the _sweat… _A man's heavy musk, almost a spicy kind of scent. It was faint, but he could well remember when it was strong. Toris leaned against the couch as he took another deep breath. Golden hair clinging to the sides of that pretty face, peach skin glistening with moisture, limbs all tangled in the sheets as they lost themselves in bliss. Toris noticed the stirring in his gut, but he didn't want to stop now. Draping the coat over his shoulders, he moved to sit on the couch. Pressing into the cushions behind him, Toris lifted the arm of the jacket to his nose again, losing himself in the memory.

Heavy thrusts which shook the headboard until Al's glasses would fall from the bedside table. Fingertips on smooth skin, nails scratching to get a grip on the slippery shoulders or hips. Hot breath and wet kisses, rushed whispers of affection. Toris loved it most when Alfred stumbled over Toris' native tongue. "_Ash tavhey meeloo_." Alfred would murmur, lips brushing Toris' ear, breath tickling, and the Lithuanian's heart would feel as if it could just burst. Alfred was always very free with his love, but when he said those words he meant them.

Toris didn't hear the click of the door opening behind him, nor the sound of shuffling as shoes were slipped off and a jacket hung up. "Toris? I wasn't expecting you until later." It was only at the sound of his name that Toris' eyes snapped open, his fantasy memory dashed in an instant. He glanced down to his open pants, his already fully erect member grasped firmly in hand.

"_Aah, Alfred_!" Toris gasped; turning and curling up on the couch. Alfred raised one eyebrow.

"A-Are you alright? Hey, is that my coat?" The American walked over to the couch curiously, taking in that curled form. Toris' shoulders were still heaving a little, and when he glanced up his expression was unmistakable. Flushed all the way to his ears, guilty green eyes, furrowed brows, and full lower lip held captive in his teeth as he chewed it nervously. Alfred's kind smile quickly grew into one much, much less innocent. "O-ho! And here I thought we'd just sit around drinking coffee and chatting like old times, but it seems like you had a different agenda!"

"I-I didn't…!" Toris protested, but Alfred's hands had already gone to the bottom of his own tee-shirt. One quick tug and it was off over his head, glasses askew and his expression bright and eager.

"No no! It's been a while!" One hand placed onto the back of the couch, Alfred hopped over it to land on his knees with a bounce on the cushions. Toris sat back again, reaching up even as Alfred came in for the kiss. It was hard, wet, and heavy. By the time it broke they were both panting, lips brushing as they shared their gasping breaths. "I missed this. I missed _you._" Alfred murmured, and Toris' heart raced.

"Y-you have others…"

"So do you." Al reminded. Toris' fingers ran through that golden hair, causing Alfred to shudder.

"I've missed you too, Alfred…" He whispered back, teeth catching Al's lower lip instead of his own this time. "_Hah_!" Toris' back arched as Al's hand slipped down to take up where the Lithuanian had left off.

"_Then let's get our reunion started…_"


End file.
